usually chloe price and weed don't create the most romantic moments
by fullhomogems
Summary: Max is in super gay love with her blue-haired stoner of a best friend, and Chloe is high but maybe also in hella gay love with her newly returned sober nerd of a best friend? (pricefield oneshot, drug mentions)
Max was blushing. A lot. She couldn't help it. Fucking Chloe Price was practically on top of her, flopped on her stomach diagonal across Max's chest. The smaller girl was sure Chloe could feel her heartbeat hammering against her flannel. Max could smell the pot on her breath and it was almost alluring. Chloe blinked slowly, dreamily-she was stoned, had no sense of boundaries. Then again there didn't seem to be a difference between high and/or drunk Chloe and the much rarer sober Chloe, other than the latter seemed to find it a fun game to consciously flirt mercilessly with the blushing mess Max became whenever she was complimented by a certain punk rock blue-haired jerkface.

"Maaaaax?" Chloe drawled, clearly so far gone she wouldn't notice if her "step-ass" waltzed in naked.

Ew. Okay, bad analogy, Max.

"Yeah?"

Chloe hauled herself off of Max, and then immediately dropped back onto the bed on her side. Max turned over to face Chloe, and regretted it immediately. Their faces were so close, Max could see the tiny freckles that danced across Chloe's nose, could make out a few miniscule flecks of spit dotting her pale pink lips. And for some reason Max, who should have been grossed out, found herself leaning in just barely. But it was enough of a movement to cause the two girls' noses to brush-and Chloe giggled and it was so fucking adorable. Chloe never giggled-she laughed in a sort of calculated, specific badass way-but this giggle felt like an opening in the walls Chloe had put up five years ago.

"You have pretty eyes…" Max breathed. They were so tantalizingly close, Chloe was the one smoking weed but Max felt high just looking at the other girl's gorgeous face, usually so hardened with shitty memories, but just for this moment, her jaw was relaxed, smile soft and warm.

"You have pretty everything!" Chloe giggled, again, and Max's face was so hot it was impossible not to notice. "You're all red, Bat-Max." Chloe said accusingly.

Max laughed, embarrassed, and was about to sit up when Chloe's left hand snaked up and touched the brown-haired girl's face, gently brushing her cheek. Max lay unbearably still, frozen with awkwardness and exhilaration. Chloe motherfucking Price was romantically stroking her face and everything was so goddamn _right_.

"Chloe…" Max whispered, her voice cracking slightly.

Chloe's face was moving closer, everything seemed to slow down, like reversing time, and Max couldn't seem to do anything except close her eyes and wait. Max was tense, bracing herself for the feeling of Chloe's perfect lips, so full of life and love, moving roughly against her own….

And something warm touched the tip of her nose and Max's eyes were snapping open because did what she think just happen actually happen.

Yes. Chloe motherfucking Price had just licked her nose. Chloe's eyes were wide and blue, full of glee and seemed to radiate the exact emotion of a smirk.

Max sat up, head spinning. She was unbelievably relieved that Chloe hadn't actually kissed her, knowing that it wasn't consensual if Chloe was high, despite initiating it. Besides, if they did ever somehow end up kissing, Max wanted them both to be sober so they could each remember the moment- _ugh!_

Fuck! Max shook her head, trying to get rid of the unbearably gay thoughts that took over her brain whenever she spent time with Chloe. Max had known she was gay for a while now, always left breathless and caught up in the flawless aesthetic of women, whether it be through a camera lens or her own eyes. In fact, before Max had left Arcadia, she had been crushing on her best friend. That's right, a younger, blonde Chloe-so different, yet so similar to the risk-taking, broken version that Max was falling so fast for now.

"Chlo, I have to head back to the dorms…" Max managed to say over the ocean of thoughts roaring in her head.

"Alrighty, Maxy-Pad. Give Nathan Prescott a kick in the balls for meeee." Chloe sang from her spot on the bed, her voice muffled by a nest of pillows.

"Of course," Max chuckled. She walked over to the door and stood in the doorway for a moment, thinking. Chloe wouldn't remember anything that happened when she was this stoned, would she?

"Hey, Chlo…"

"Hmm?"

"Love you!" Max said quickly, and bolted out the door, not waiting for a response.

If she had, Max would have heard a hella high Chloe Price respond with "I love you so much, Super-Max," and then lazily add "You're so beautiful, you know that?"


End file.
